


Whispers in the Darkness

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: kink_bingo, Hand Job, Hogwarts, M/M, Orgy, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-19
Updated: 2010-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville wakes into the darkness and the sounds of sex from one of the other beds. When he sees Harry is awake too, he decides to help the other boy out and makes a surprising connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> JK Rowling owns the world and the characters; I just like to play with them sometimes.
> 
> This story takes place after Deathly Hallows, with the characters returning to Hogwarts for their seventh year, to properly finish out.

It should seem strange, but it doesn't.

Neville awakens into the darkness to the sound of soft moans and cries, flesh against flesh. His body is already hard from the sounds, and he rolls over, pulling back just the edge of his curtain to look beyond, where he can see the silhouette of Dean's dark body covering Shay's in the shorter boy's bed. He had always wondered if those two were more than friends, and he can see now that it's obvious they are.

Neville wonders if this is the first time they've done it in the dorm room at Gryffindor, or if it is simply the first time they've forgotten their privacy spells.

He falls back against his pillow, half wishing that he couldn't hear them, and half wishing he could see more of it. Neville is eighteen -- nearly nineteen now as they finish their seventh year, invited back to Hogwarts after the war was done -- and he is still a virgin. He's fairly certain Ron lost his virginity at some point during the war, with Hermione. And he knows Harry lost his last summer, celebrating victory with Ginny, before the two of them broke up. She told Luna, who told Neville right before she said she'd rather wait until they were married. Which would be at least another year.

Neville is about to try to whisper a privacy charm for himself, hoping not to arse it up and make himself more noticeable instead of less, when he realizes that Dean and Seamus aren't the only ones awake. Soft sounds in the bed to his right, skin on skin and a faint shadow through the curtain as Harry's hand rises and falls.

Neville's mouth goes dry, his heart speeding up.

The privacy spell is forgotten as he carefully slides his curtain open, one ring at a time, praying that the rustle goes unheard as the other boys are distracted by their own actions. He rolls carefully from the bed, every moan Seamus whispers curling in his gut, arousing him more. The boys stop, and Neville stops as well, crouched between his bed and Harry's. Dean whispers something unheard that makes Seamus laugh, then everyone stills as Ron grunts in his sleep and rolls over, his shadowy form pulling a pillow over his head.

Another low laugh, and Neville watches the outlines of the boys as they switch positions, Seamus stretching out on the bed, looking up at Dean as the taller boy stretches over him. Neville's breath catches as the sheets whisper softly with the movements of Dean slowly pressing in again, Seamus' cry keening into a low groan of pleasure at the sensation.

There is only a little further to go to reach Harry's bed, and Neville pauses at the curtain, daring to pull it back just an inch, enough to see Harry lying there, eyes closed, hand wrapped around his cock and stroking slowly.

Neville's hand closes slowly over Harry's, matching that slow stroke, once from root to head before Harry's eyes fly open and he stares at him. Neville presses a finger to Harry's lips, and motions for him to sit up. In slow motion, taking care to remain quiet, Harry inches back until his back is propped against the wall and Neville can settle between his legs without blocking his view of the other bed.

"I'm not bent," Harry whispers, barely audible.

Neville crouches between his legs, then stretches out, letting his own cock rub against the sheets of Harry's bed as he finds his position. He looks up at Harry and smiles. "Neither am I," he whispers back. After all, Neville is going to marry Luna in a year, and he's always thought about girls, ever since he first started thinking about sex at all. But then there's Harry, and if Neville thinks about it, he might admit he'd loved him since they first met. Neville isn't bent at all, but just this once, he can give something to someone he loves, and not have it matter in the darkness.

He takes just the head in his mouth first, wondering what it would be like and tasting the salty drop that wells up at the tip. It isn't bad, different than he'd expected, the skin silk over rigidity beneath his tongue. Neville knows what feels good when he touches himself, so he runs his tongue along the underside, loving the strangled moan that it coaxes from Harry's throat. Hands tangle in his hair, and Neville goes willingly with the motion, taking Harry's cock into his mouth as deeply as he can manage.

"Nev," Harry whispers.

Neville doesn't stop, pulling back until Harry nearly slips free of the warmth, then engulfing him again. He matches the sounds he hears from the other side of the room, his mouth moving in time with Dean's thrusts and Seamus' groans. He can hear the shattered breathing as Dean grows close, and he increases his effort with Harry, reaching to cradle his balls, rolling them in his hand as he strokes the sensitive perineum with one finger.

"Nev, I'm--" Harry's whisper is strangled, too loud in the room, but Neville doesn't care any more. He knows what Harry is trying to say and it doesn't matter; he refuses to let up, sucking him down until he tastes the musky explosion. He swallows roughly, trying to get it all but knowing some of the sticky fluid has slipped free.

Behind him he hears the sudden stop and groan of Dean's orgasm. Silence falls, broken only by the rough breathing of all four boys, and Ron's snuffling snores.

Neville lies on the bed, aching and hard, hips shifting slightly against the sheets. He groans softly, wanting to roll over and take himself in his hand, but the spell has been broken and he is suddenly _aware_ of the other three boys. And he is sure that Dean and Seamus are aware of him.

Can they all forget it in the morning? Will it just be a dream they half remember when they awaken? Neville isn't sure, and he doesn't know how it will look in the light of day. His skin flushes hot as he waits, unable to look at Harry, afraid he'll see anger for having broken the rules and not just ignored what went on behind the privacy of their curtains.

Harry touches his cheek, and Neville finally looks up, slowly pressing himself back so that he kneels on the bed. He hasn't turned yet to see Seamus and Dean, hasn't looked to see what they are doing now that all the sound has stopped. When Harry pats the place where he sits, and rolls out of the way, Neville moves forward uncertainly, crawling across the bed. He sits and turns to put his back against the wall, flushing brighter at the way his cock points ceilingward, raging hard and begging for attention. It twitches, and he glances at Harry. "Sorry," he whispers.

"Don't be," the other boy replies.

The touch is fleeting at first, as if Harry expects Neville to explode before he begins. Neville stifles a groan, amazed that this is happening at all. His eyes shut tightly and his mind turns inward, senses narrowing down to touch and hearing, the soft sounds of Harry's tongue tentatively sliding against his skin more arousing than anything he could imagine.

Until he hears a groan from the other side of the room, and his eyes fly open, staring.

Dean sits on the side of Seamus' bed, facing Neville. Their eyes meet for a moment, then Dean's gaze drops down to where his hands press, dark against the pale of Seamus' chest. The smaller boy straddles his lap, back to Dean, hard cock thrusting out as he arches back, head leaning against Dean's shoulder.

Dean looks up again and meets Neville's gaze. He smirks slightly as he wraps his hand around Seamus' cock and starts to stroke.

Neville can't stop watching the slow motion of hand on skin. His hand falls to the top of Harry's head, threading through the hair that sticks up every which way. As Dean's hand strokes along Seamus' length, Harry swallows Neville. He can't help the groan as he tilts his hips, thrusting into that warmth. Harry makes a little pleased sound, vibrating around Neville, and that almost undoes him. But he can't stop watching, doesn't want this to end before it has to.

Neville's gaze shifts between Harry's dark head, barely a shadow in the darkness as it bobs up and down in his lap, and the pale luminescence of Seamus' skin in the moonlight, paler still where it rests againt Dean. Seamus is lost now, given over to the hunger and need, hips thrusting into his lover's hand. Dean's gaze drops from Neville's and his mouth slides along Seamus' shoulder with wet sounds as he sucks the skin into his mouth.

Seamus comes with a strangled shout, only contained by Dean's hand pressed against his mouth, thin ropes of his come bright and silvery flashes, fleeting in the moonlight.

Neville looks down to see Harry looking at him. He can barely breathe, he's so close to the edge, needing this so very desperately. On the other side of the room, Dean and Seamus disappear behind the curtain, stretching out in the bed, breath slowly becoming even and slow, while Neville's continues ragged and raw, his heart racing.

Neville's eyes flicker shut, and against the darkness of his eyelids he sees a scene as if it were happening, of himself stretched over Luna, pressing into her while Harry's hand strokes down his back. Of Harry watching him take Luna, while Harry pulls on his own cock, spurting in orgasm just as Neville empties himself into his wife.

The image is bright and rings with truth and Neville _wants_ it with every fiber of his being.

Fingers tangle in Harry's hair as he thrusts hard, entire body tensing before he empties into Harry's mouth, feeling the suction around his cock as Harry swallows.

Neville doesn't know what to say afterwards, there in the darkness, as Harry crawls back up onto the bed next to him and sits, back against the wall. For a long time they sit just like that, their fingers touching between their outstretched legs. Neville doesn't know who moves first, just that their fingers tangle and squeeze, linking them together.

He turns to look at Harry, who looks back, green eyes reflected in the moonlight from the window. A slow brush of lips on lips, the same as kissing Luna, but also so very different. Just as right, Neville is sure of that at least.

Neville slips away carefully, watching as Harry slides back beneath the sheets. He lightly touches Harry's shoulder, and is relieved when Harry's fingers brush against his for just a moment. He smiles.

Then he slips back into his own bed, drawing the curtains around him and lies there, listening to the soft whispers of lovers talking in Seamus' bed, and Harry's soft breaths easing into sleep. And beyond Harry, he hears those soft snuffling snores and he has to laugh silently to himself. Because Neville knows the entire world changed tonight, and yet, Ron slept through it all.


End file.
